I fell to earth. My escape capsule blew a huge, smoking crater in the ground. Before long, I realized I had an audience. A group of 30 or 40 hairless primates draped in a horrifying array of processed animal and plant remains approached.
“You break it, you bought it, mister,” said the biggest male. “Where should I send the bill?”
“Yeah!” shouted the crowd behind him.
"You still owe me a million credits each from this morning!" snarled the front man as he whipped around to face them, eyes bulging. "Due date was noon and now you're ALL in arrears with 7000% interest. Get back to work, you bums!"
The crowd scattered into the distance, disappearing into what could barely be made out as a low cinderblock structure through the smoke bellowing from its roof.
“Well?!” barked the front man, turning back to me.
I decided to play dumb. “Well, what?”
“Your bill, are you going to pay it?”
I’ve never been good at thinking on my feet, but the local lingo was starting to make a strange sort of sense. “Check’s in the mail?” I ventured.
A broad smile broke out across the front man’s face. He shifted the cigar he’d been chewing to the other side of his mouth, and put out his hand. “You’re all right. Welcome to earth, son!”